


Don't be Alone

by Ditsy2004



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with no happy ending, Children, Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt No Comfort, It Gets Worse, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Fall (Good Omens), War in Heaven (Good Omens), bodyguard aziraphale, forgets their memories, lucifer at some point, this is not a happy fic, this takes place in heaven
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:13:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23449837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ditsy2004/pseuds/Ditsy2004
Summary: Many other angels came along after the seven Seraphim. These are the angels that keep heaven running when She becomes unresponsive. Raphael, Michael, Raguel, and Jeremiel were the first four to attend heaven before humans. Michael, Uriel, Gabrel, and Sandalphon attended heaven after humans.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Raphael (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Raphael (Good Omens), Crowley & God (Good Omens), Michael & Raphael (Good Omens), Raphael & Angels (Good Omens)
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is being edited and rewritten for a better plot, hopefully. I have no idea when I'll be able to post but every 2-3 weeks is doable.

"Well, it goes like this  
The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift"  
-Hallelujah

"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth." Or, “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God" or even," In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God." This is true to mankind, not necessarily angel kind.

It all began with a thought to make more: beings, creations, plans, anything to make the darkening abyss of absolute nothingness go away. Many different ideas crossed Her mind, create light but over time that would make the maddening abyss white instead. Create small bursts of light but that would only lead to a tedious task over and over, and why do it alone? Another being could help make Her plan work. An Angel. And that is what started the creation of heaven. An idea based on companionship. 

The Almighty gathered stardust, atoms, and pure holy power and shaped the first angel to exists. A healer, Raphael. The small child opened his golden eyes and stared at the empty space around them in childlike wonder, wondering how many more things could exist, could be made. As the child looked around, he eventually found Her. 

"Hello, my Raphael," said a voice, like silk. "Having fun traversing?"

The child nodded, red wisps of hair flaring around. "Is that my name?" replied Raphael, shifting his non-existent weight, inching further away from the foreign voice. 

"Yes," She whispered excitably. "You are one of the first creatures I have created. Isn't that lovely?" The warm air, was filled with immense love and security, broke through an invisible dam, flooding every other atom in the unknown universe, leaving a stale taste in its wake. "Are you afraid of me little one?"

"Very."

"Oh." The voice dropped an octave, the body of light dimming. "Please do not be afraid. I am Adonai, a type of... parent* you and you are my first Angel, a healer."

*God, even though She knew everything in the non-existent world, was like most parents. Unsure and slightly scared of the mind of a seven-year-old.

"Why are we alone?" The child asked, gaining confidence. 

A warm feeling rushed around the small being when She laughed," I have not made anything else yet. Here, see this glowing sphere? This is called a star. I would like you to make more of these. 

"Soon, there will be more Angels and a luxurious place for you all to live. No one should be alone." *

*Keep this in mind, it will be important later.

Raphael, he decided he liked the name, knew Adonai was telling the truth. There in Her hand was the bright light, a star She said, making him feel a little less afraid of the unknown darkness out in the distance. Hypnotized, the Lord knelt in front of Her first 'child' and looked at how he was made. Burgundy hair curls around Raphael’s face in soft waves, vibrant honey-golden eyes stare in awe, and three small pairs of golden wings. A white sheet of cloth circled his figure with traces of gold embroidery that brighten the child’s eyes. She can see the power running through his veins, the shimmer of pale gold coursing beneath the skin. He will be one of Her most favored sons, Her healer, Her first Seraphim. As time continues, they'll be known as Archangels but that's in many years to go.

"Raphael," Adonai called." Hold out your hand, and... there we are."

The star now sat comfortably between Raphael’s hands, hovering just barely above it.

"It's... warm. Why?"

"Why do you think? 

"I don't know," Raphael said. "But it's comforting like when you made that sound earlier! It made me feel good. You said you wanted me to make more of these, too." 

She laughed again, ”Yes, my light. The star is warm because it combines with substances, like hydrogen and helium, which creates a small type of explosion. Now, How would you like a friend? A sister, perhaps?”

"What's that?"

The Almighty smirked, turned away from Raphael, manipulating elements and atoms to join in a soft white light that was becoming brighter the longer She worked. In an instant, another form existed now with the duo. 

Like his own, the being’s clothes were white and covered their body but instead of gentle gold, a harsh silver was the trim, a mimic of armor, if it existed yet, and three pairs of silver wings behind them. Brown hair sat atop their head, not long like Raphael's.

“Raphael, meet your sister, Michael. I will be back shortly, my children.”

And, just like that, this was the beginning of the angels. The angels were created just so. The oldest being Raphael, Her healer. He could hold the threads of starlight in his fingertips or heal any unwanted wound of others. The second oldest being Michael, the Warrior of God. A skilled fighter and a dangerous threat to anyone that hurts heaven. Next came Raguel, the law. Then Jeremiel, the mercy, and the grace of God. Uriel, patron of the arts. Second to last, Gabriel, the messenger of God. And finally, Sandalphon, prayers of God.

Many other angels came along after the seven Seraphim. These are the angels that keep heaven running when She becomes unresponsive*. Raphael, Michael, Raguel, and Jeremiel were the first four to attend heaven before humans. Michael, Uriel, Gabrel, and Sandalphon attended heaven after humans.***

*Adonai is never seen anymore. The only time She interferes is at The End. Maybe, just maybe, the idea of leaving creatures with free will unattended for centuries without any sort of check-up, will not appeal** to Her.

**It does the opposite

***Away, that is for later and then, and now is for now. 

Heaven, when actually made, was an interesting place, with towers of gold and greenery in every corner, defying physics, if it stayed consistant as all. It was divided into three equal tiers*, so one could ever overpower the others. 

*Think of a staircase but with land and water instead of wood or stone. It looked neat but the practical use was hell, so give or take a few years and The Fall, it was redesigned.

The very top tier dealt with blessings and injuries, basically an infirmary. It was here in the golden and rustic garden that Raphael guided angels, mainly Virtues and Guardians, in the ways of healing ailment of both body and mind through either divine intervention or more physical solutions. There the air was full of calmness that put any worries to ease. Those willing to learn came to the upper level, and those uninterested, always left to some other. 

The next step was 'Neutral’ ground as some would call it. Raguel and Jeremiel oversaw this level. Here is where angels relaxed. Towers of ivy and columns of bronze provided excellent hiding spots for flying; below, thin canopies of tree leaves gave way to comfort on the ground, along with distant sounds of water crashing to land. Leading away from paradise, the court provided work. The system was simple. If any being had personal or legal issues, here was the law and the mercy of God. Cases poured in and out of the area and ranged from easy disagreements to full riots that cause injury. For announcement from Her, the center of this level was the meeting place.

The ‘Center’ is an island at the center of the three levels and on neutral ground. The water around the island shimmered multitudes of color to signify the importance of the speaker. Talks were held annually there or in other secluded places like the hanging gardens if privacy was needed or the topic interested small portions of angels. Anyone of any rank could hold the floor of the Center.

The last section is the training grounds. The most populous area of heaven. It homes most Cherubim’s, Power’s, and Principality’s that become skilled warriors through the rigid methods from Michael. Many start by choosing a weapon from the Arena and starting on the barren land for practice. As skills increase, the difficulty increases, as expectations rise to fight in rough terrain, dim light, unknown weaponry, and groups consisting of two or more with greater strength*.

*Many went to the infirmary during practice.

\--------------

“Raguel, you’re late,” said Michael, leaning under a tree, her face in her usual indifferent gaze but hazel eyes glad to see their sibling not under stress like their job normally is.

“Oh, please give them a break. You wouldn’t believe the case today,” Jeremiel said, gentle.” Some of your soldiers need to learn that not everything requires fighting.”

Jeremiel saw the fight two Powers caused that lead to a whirlwind of problem, that made some Thrones and Virtues have to separate them. Luckily, no one was hurt.

“Alright, but I want their names and the report.”

Raguel settled next to Jeremiel, who was swinging in a swing of woven vines without a care, that multicolored eyes reassured them that the day is almost over and a new one began tomorrow. Close by, Raphael had a paper in hand, along with a pen and was seated in the soft grass, ready to take notes of the meeting and filling out forms from an injury that day. The sound of three distinct laughter created by the young Seraphim's was nearby. They don’t join in meeting often but are always welcome to come sit, if desired.

“With that settled, let’s start,” Jeremiel stated.” There’s nothing new in my department except new angels. Some of your Virtues, Raphael, came to me wanting to learn how Earth will work.”

“That’s great, that’s absolutely fantastic. The usual for me. Paperwork, wounds,” Raphael looked up from the worn note journal*. "The occoacional class about healing."

*It was a common occurrence that Raphael was filling out forms. They all had a job to do, but he always liked to have detail records of every injury coming in and out of his infirmary. Something about ,”Never can be to careful,” or ,”Incase it happens again.”

With a fond eye roll from Michael, “So nothing new, Hermit. ”

“That was one time, Halfling. And I still don't like that nickname.”

Michael glared at Raphael, “And I don’t like that one either, so bear with it.”

The noise of someone clearing their throat interrupted the banter. Raguel stopped once three pairs of eyes stared, wanting them to continue whatever they needed to say. The probability of Raguel speaking outside of business was rare and her getting straight to business meant trouble, at least in meetings.

Whispers had spread across heaven like a plague, if one had existed yet, about something new beings created. Earth had existed as long as heaven, and tons of angels worked on making plants and animals. It’s brilliant what creations and ideas the choirs produced.

“Now then, I don’t know if you three have noticed but angels are going missing, mainly Thrones, like Raum, Sytri, and Verrine.” Raguel stop for a moment look down, voice lower than before to make unwanted ears unable to hear.” Certain documents are missing from the Archive. Reports of injuries that almost took lives and books about creation.”

Nothing moved around the four leaders of heaven, except the sound of a distant splash and a cry of no fair from Uriel. All of them knew that murmurs of some big happening soon but that was about humans, the people of earth, Her experiment. This, this was about angels. Angels who wanted attention or to prove their worth. Worth to what? God, themselves, others?

“Raphael, from now on, every report you make or receive, have on your person or safe-guarded somewhere.” Michael said, with a gaze that demanded for edict. “Raguel, investigate this further. I’ll send some of my trustable guards. Jeremiel, keep everyone calm. If other angels find out about this, they might panic. Hermit, Jeremiel, both of you will get a guard too, for protection.”

“Any questions?”

They all remained silent.

“Ok then. We’re dismissed. I’ll send the guards up at once.”

With a final glance, each Seraphim left for their own level. The three kid Seraphim following Raphael, hoping to play with the Virtues*, without knowing one of them heard all the troubles of their older siblings.

*The Virtues are the only ones that understand that hide and seek is everyone hide's, one seeks and not one hide's and everyone seeks. There is a big difference.


	2. Chapter 2

"I just stared and you grinned

And looked right back, it felt like just one big whirlwind

One big emotional whirlwind"

-cliché

Pulling aside the gray curtain, Raphael ushered the children into his office made into a workshop. Here sat half done projects of complex stars, in between scattered papers on every square inch of the table. Moving forwards, Gabriel, shortly followed by Sandalphon, dashed to the window seat overlooking space* that held many of Raphael’s creations. It was Gabriel’s favorite place.

*Not that Gabriel remembers but some were made after him. Purple is not a common color** but certain nebulas appear purple.

**You cannot have purple stars. They explode. So to create the color purple, you must have a combination of red and blue to appear purple.

Rolling her eyes, Uriel walked to the opposite side of the room where the shining improper stars and small unstable nebulae resided. It was accompanied by the nice smell of old books containing powerful knowledge. Bright light blue eyes amazed at what her older brother can do.

Deciding, that the two boys by the window will fall asleep within the hour and that Uriel will read to herself, Raphael starts to gather forms and keep them locked away as Michael requested. Organizing them from important to least important became troublesome, given that all cases were important in a way.

Hours passed, excruciating slow until a familiar brunette pull the curtain enough to gesture.’ Come out here, now. I have something for you.’ Was clearly said even though no words left Michael smirking mouth.

Raphael got out of his chair as quietly as possible, to not disturb Gabriel’s and Sandalphon’s nap on each other or Uriel’s reading. Treading softly across the floor, he reached the now closed curtain. A small breath comes out of his mouth at her actions but nevertheless goes to meet her outside.

“Ah, Hermit. Glad you could finally come out here.” Michael said, grabbing the other angel’s arm, surprising Raphael at the contact. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

"Still don't like that nickname, Halfling," said Raphael, with a grin, knowing she was grinding her teeth.

Leading Raphael through the small labyrinth he called home, Micheal started to explain her ideas.

“As I said at our meeting,“ moving aside so two healers, a Dominion, and a Virtue, she noted, could pass with their patient,” you, Raguel, and Jeremiel are getting some of my most trusted guardsmen. Raguel has Nabu, since he already helps with documents, and a group of five Cherubim to protect her Archive.”

“Jeremiel has a Throne, Nithael.” She glanced behind her at him. “She’s a nice soldier that can help them make others calm down.”

“The soldier that I pick out for you is one that has been meaning to learn how to heal. He is an... interesting character, but exceptionally kind. And don’t worry, he’s well-read. He’s one of my best and most loyal Principality.” Michael proudly stated.

Turning the corner to reach where the beginning of Raphael’s domain started and the ledge of where other levels were, stood a white-haired angel with a shield hanging from his back. His back was to the duo, but it was obvious what he was doing. Kneeling on the ground, the Power was tending and admiring dozens of different flowers, particularly the gloxinia, sweet peas, hyacinth, and asphodel. Each flower preening in the attention of the Principality.

“Principality Aziraphale,” Michael commanded, making the angel stand, facing her. “This is Seraphim Raphael. You will protect him with your life* and do anything he says. Clear?”

"Micheal, you can't say with your life," muttered Raphael. She glared in response.

“Yes, ma’am.” Replied the soldier.

*Understand that when an angel, any angel, hears 'with your life', it means You Will Do What You Were Told Even If It Means Your Life. It's kinda like a suicide mission. 

Besides the white hair, this angel was slightly chubby, not fat by any means. On his belt, hanged a scabbard with clear details of how much command he has, along with a bag of knickknacks*. Moving upwards, Aziraphale’s arms held minor scars, clearly from sparing gone wrong. Then Raphael’s eyes stopped. Looking at his face, a soft, gentle smile hung from his lips and determination shone through blue eyes. And how Her healer could stare into those eyes for the rest of eternity and sink deeper into…

*The knickknacks in question is just a pull-string bag tied around the belt. It contained six dice, seven silver squares, and one silver rectangle. 

“Well, that does it, don’t you think?” Smirked his tall sister. Nudging, she whispered to him, ”Don’t worry, he can take care of himself.”

“Principality Aziraphale, I do believe you can handle this task. I’ll be back soon to check on things. Until then, good luck.” And with that, Michael took off, her wings making a breeze that ruffled their robes and shook the flowers nearby.

The Principality stood in front of his new assignment and bowed slightly. “My Seraphim. Awaiting my first command, sir.”

Raphael shook his head, hair moving with him, “Right, of course. Follow me,” said Raphael turning with a wave of his hand.

There was no clear door the pair walked through, Aziraphale noted, but the tall pillars and the change from soft grass to ceramic tile were enough of an entrance. The area was open, like a temple, with Enochian writing carved into the stone and different colors of fabrics, mainly orange, yellow, and gold hanged from the walls. Angels gathered in groups. Moving through the room, laughter and chatter were heard with scents of sweet things.

Glancing up, pinpricks of white glittered a black background. It was breathtaking. Aziraphale halted, a smile forming on his face, hands resting on his belt.

Raphael slowed and turned around to face Aziraphale.

“This is the common area. Here you are free to speak however you want. Over there-“ Raphael pointed to a black sheet of fabric on his right, “-is where we keep books about medicine and some leisure reads.”

“And over here-“ Raphael pointed to the other side of the room, “- are tables and benches. It’s quieter over there if you need a break.”

Raphael’s golden eyes came back to look at Aziraphale, his mouth forming a shy smile, “Got that?”

“Yes, my Seraphim,” said Aziraphale, returning the smile.

“Oh, you don’t have to call me that if you don’t want to. But, it’s your choice.” Shrugged Raphael, turning around again, beginning to climb the small set of stairs.

Circling the room and catching one last look at the sky, Aziraphale ran to Raphael’s side like a trained soldier. “What would you like me to call you instead, sir?”

“Well, my name is a great place to start,” Said Raphael, pushing aside a white curtain. Raphael mimicked a bow, “After you.”

“Thank you.” Opening his mouth to say more, he decided on what to call this man. “Raphael.”*

* Principality's are protective, remember that.

“Don’t mention it,” Raphael said, standing beside Aziraphale. “So, you’re going to be an improper soldier, call me by a name instead of a title? That’s cute.” Raphael nudged him with his hip.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” The pair took off at a slow pace. “It was adorable the way you interacted with the flowers outside.” A smile came to Raphael’s face, as he whispered, “You know it’s fine to express what you like. No one’s going to take it away from you.”

Aziraphale turned his head away as pink started to creep on his cheeks*. No words could leave his mouth and his throat closed, letting no breath come in or out. Their footsteps echoed in the relatively short hallway, but it seemed to last forever. A cough from Aziraphale broke the silence. Raphael moved his head to smirk at the other angel, knowing he won the argument from before.

*If you know anything of the military, it's all left right left. This is technically the first time someone, other than other soldiers, has told him it's ok to express what you like.

Nervously twisting his hands in front of him, Aziraphale asked, “So, why are the main colors-“ pointing to the valances, “- orange, yellow, and gold? I don’t understand it.”

“Phycology, I’ll explain but let’s stop here.” Said Raphael.

They stood at the center of five hallways, each having a colored curtain around the frame. Starting from the left to the right, began light yellow, purple, green, then red. No other indications were given of what was beyond the barrier, other than instinct, like patients and healers. It seemed odd though, keeping eyes out or in.

Noticing that on the ground in front of them, a medallion stood. A wooden torch laid with golden swirls encompassing the image; A dark wreath behind the torch finished off with a bright red ribbon tied in a bow at the bottom.

“For the colors,” started Raphael, pointing to an example for each explanation. “orange is associated with joy, so to make patients happy. Yellow, in short, heals quickly. Gold, my signature color apparently. And for the halls, it’s yellow for physical injuries, purple for if we have an overflow, green for mental health, and red for extreme emergencies.”

Raphael smiled at Aziraphale, “My workroom is in the physical hall.”

Raphael’s eyes became unclear for a moment like a thought came in or realization hit him. In an instant, Aziraphale’s left hand was grabbed, with Raphael pulling him along through the green curtain, with an explanation of, “You haven’t met the others yet!”

Aziraphale, coming to his senses, jogged beside Raphael. He looked at the passing rooms and hallways. The place was practically a maze*. Angels of different experiences roamed the area, helping recruits. The older angel laid their hands-on top of the younger angels, that were placed on an arm wound, and gave instructions. The noise around was too loud for Aziraphale to hear what he wanted. But he was cut off by a sharp tug, pulling him away.

*Like any good hospital, it's hard to find rooms unless you work there or have visited way too many times.

A soft voice registered in Aziraphale’s mind, that was saying something about… children?

“-is the second oldest of the three.” Rushed Raphael, facing a gray curtain. “He’s very…out there, you could say. A complete wild card. Then there’s Sandalphon. He is always with Gabriel. They are inseparable. Sandalphon is shy and it will take a while for him to warm up to you, so don’t take it personally. A good rule of thumb is if you can find any one of the three, the other two are close.”

“Are you ready or did I speak too fast?” Raphael asked looking at Aziraphale, genuinely wanting an honest answer.

“You went too fast for me, Raphael.” Touching him softly on the shoulder. “I got the last bit, but not the beginning. Could you please repeat it?” Aziraphale’s hand dropped back down to his side.

“Of course,” Said Raphael, running a hand along his white and golden robes. “Uriel is the oldest of the three, the three being Uriel, Gabriel, and Sandalphon. She is clever, very clever, but very blunt too. Keeps to herself a lot. Gabriel is the second oldest and is complete-“

“I heard the rest.”

“Oh good,” sighed Raphael. Looking back at Aziraphale, wrinkles edged across his forehead, voice low in a concerning manner, “Ready to meet them? They are a handful. What do you want them to call you?”

“I’d love to meet them and my name, Aziraphale.” Aziraphale bowed slightly, grabbing the curtain, “After you,” he said in a teasing tone.

Raphael grinned, this being the first smile to reach his eyes. A hand coming up to cover his down-facing face. “We are going to be great friends.” He said, shaking his head walking into his workroom.

Looking after him, Aziraphale whispered, “I hope so.” And followed in behind him.

The first thing Aziraphale saw was books. Shelves upon shelves of books with balls of lights and stacks of unorganized papers. The second thing he saw was the window looking out on the stars. The third, and final thing he saw, were two children sitting on a bench by the window, a light brown-haired kid hiding behind a dark-haired boy.

“Gabriel, Sandalphon, Uriel,” said Raphael, “This is Aziraphale. There have been rumors about angels going missing, so he’s here to guard us, just in case.”

Raphael turned to face Aziraphale, “Aziraphale, Sandalphon is behind Gabriel and Uriel is,” eyes narrowing at the center bottom row of the bookcase, right below the balls of light. “Right there.” He pointed.

Coming out of her hole, Uriel rose to her feet, holding a black book in her right hand. “ Hello, Aziraphale,” Accompanied with a wave, then staring at the man for a moment, exclaimed, “You have eyes like me! See Gabriel, there are other angels with blue eyes.”

“ No, that doesn’t count,” Gabriel claimed, climbing off the window seat.

“Yes, it does. He’s an angel, so it counts.”

“No, the rule was-“

Raphael grabbed Aziraphale’s arm, saying, “Sorry about this. Neither of them has seen anyone else with blue or purple eyes, so they made it into a competition to who can find their eye color first.” His eyes rolled in clear amusement. “Give me a second,” he said.

“Uriel, Gabriel.” A stern voice echoed in the room. “Is that any way to act in front of a guest? Or anyone for that matter?”

Aziraphale hid a laugh behind his hand at the children’s reaction. Uriel startled but unsurprised, at possibly getting a punishment, and Gabriel becoming scared to death. Raphael becoming harsh or angry was unheard of or not frequent.

The small sound of, “No, Raphael,” was heard for all five occupants of the room.

“Good, now why don’t you go out and talk to some of my patients. It’s been a while since they have seen you or I know some Virtues should be on their break. You could go play hide and seek.”

Uriel’s face lit up, a grin breaking across her face. She grabbed her brother, forgetting their feud, and took him away, along with the book she had in her right hand.

Raphael walked over to the window seat, where Sandalphon still sat in a ball, and gently knelt beside him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Raphael asked in a calm voice, the complete opposite from before, “Would you like to go with them or stay here? I know crowds make you nervous. Or we can do what we did last time. What do you want?”

A head appearing from crossed arms, replied, “Last time, please.”

“Alright. You want me to walk you there or do you got it?”

“Walk me there.”

“Ok,” Raphael said, standing up, holding his hand out for Sandalphon to take.

“Aziraphale, if you want, you can come with us. We’re going down to the mental health hall. It tends to be less... hectic there."

“I’ll go,” Aziraphale said, holding the curtain back. Raphael walked through the door, smiling at him with a nonverbal thank you. Sandalphon just hung close to Raphael’s leg, hiding in his wings, gripping his hand.

They moved in silence. The sound of feet hitting the tile being the only noise. Distantly, yells of hurry, get tape, and losing blood fast echoed behind them. Aziraphale turned to look at the passing corridor to his right, noticing it was empty. Must be the overflow Raphael talked about, Aziraphale thought.

Raphael turned onto the next hall, one that had noise but less chaotic and more peaceful. Passing angels waiting outside closed curtains, the trio came upon a hall with a sign saying, NO LOUD SOUNDS*. The siblings passed it without a glance.

*Things the Bible, Book of Tobit, the Torah, regular history book won't tell you is that people with disabilities existed long before Earth. Some angels were deaf, couldn't walk or fly, or are living with mental illness, etc. Some considered themselves disabled, others didn't. It depends on the person.

Coming to a stop at the first door, Raphael knelt to look at Sandalphon, “We’re here. You got it?”

A smile appeared on Sandalphon’s face, “Yeah, I like Rahatiel.”

Raphael stood. He reached for the doorknob and opened it enough for the child to enter the room. Closing the door silently, he gestured that it was their time to leave.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Raphael pulled the gray fabric out of the way, walking straight into his workroom, to his chair. Sitting down, his head went to his hands. “You know,” Raphael started, his voice coming out muffled. “You don’t have to just stand there. Please, make yourself comfortable.” Head coming up to look at Aziraphale, standing at the portiere.

Aziraphale nodded, heading for the window seat the two children sat on not long ago. The black of the cushion, a sharp contrast to the white robes everyone wore. To his left sat the window, beyond it was pretty lights in different colors, each moving at different paces. A golden one in the distance looking like it came from a pair of familiar golden eyes. They were beautiful. Similar to the painted ceiling of the library in the arena.

“Do you have any other questions,” called a voice behind him, “or are you going to stare at my stars all day?”

Tearing his eyes away, Aziraphale met Raphael’s gaze, hands fiddling with a pouch string attached to his belt. “I do have some, but the,” he turned to the window then back to Raphael. “The stars. They are gorgeous. I have never seen anything like them.”

“Really?” Exclaimed Raphael, leaning forward to inspect him more, checking for the catch or a hint of a lie, but finding none. “They’re everywhere in the gardens and Center. Have you never left Ground?”

“No, I have had no reason to.”

Raphael's mouth opened to say something, but no words left his mouth. Eyes blinking rapidly trying to clear the words said from the other. He has never left Ground. Why hasn’t he?

Closing his mouth, Raphael’s hair moves with him as he shakes his head, eyes closing for a moment before, “Why? Why did you not leave, even for a break?”

“Well,” said Aziraphale, looking at his twisting hands. “I was having fun, I suppose. And was doing great, phenomenally actually, much better than the rest of my peers. There is a library in the arena down there, lovely place with good reading material and greenery. I never saw the need to leave unless told.” Breathing heavily from rushing through his explanation. 

Aziraphale realizes what he said, limbs freezing, awaiting punishment, or a warning. His eyes flashing up to Raphael, inspecting for any indication of…of what exactly? He does not know. Raphael has been kind to him, so far, so why expect backlash like mistakes made in boot camp. Raphael is not Michael training recruits, breaking them into perfect soldiers. And even she is merciful.

“That makes sense. Start there, finish there.” Raphael said, already standing for God knows how long, putting stacks of books away from his table. “Though, technically, it could go back to phycology about positive reinforcement.”

Turning around to face Aziraphale, Raphael repeated, “Questions? You have some.” Before continuing with his task.

“Well, first,” stumbled Aziraphale, more cautiously than before. “Why do you need a guard? And the other Seraphim too? You mentioned something about rumors and angels going missing. Is it related?”

“Yes, I’m not sure if I’m supposed to tell many people but,” Raphael froze, then continued. “…Angels are missing from their posts, mainly Thrones. And certain works from the Archive. The guarding is if anyone tries to take one of us.”

Aziraphale snapped his head left, surprised at the sound outside. Laughter rang throughout the hall, loud enough for them to hear, with a shout of _look, I did it. I really did it!_ A new being learning their capabilities. 

“Is it serious?”

“We don’t know.”

“How,” Aziraphale moved his leg into a proper sitting position, all the fun left his posture. “How long before the others are told?”

“We don’t know,” Raphael said, moving his robes out of the way to face Aziraphale. “Until we have a suspect or Mother tells us to stop worrying.”

“Well then,” Aziraphale tried to smile, pointing to the entryway. “Sounds like someone’s happy.”

Raphael shook his head, hair covering his face, hiding a small smile, glad for a topic change, “Probably one of the Virtues. They're always happy.” Bring up a hand to tuck red hair behind his ear.

“I have another question if you don’t mind? Why did the other little boy, Sandon-“

“Sandalphon.”

“Sandalphon,” Aziraphale tried it out on his tongue. “Why did Sandalphon go to a different hall instead of with the others?”

“To see a person like him. He has something I called selective mutism.” Raphael said, sitting on his now cleared desk. “Selective mutism is a condition that deals with anxiety that makes it difficult for the person to speak. It's like they're shy from speaking or being spoken to or about, including social interactions but, are willing to interact without words.”

Raphael saw a confused-looking Aziraphale, “That didn’t make any sense did it?”

“Maybe an example will work better?” Suggested Aziraphale.

“Alright, so we both know Michael, right? Imagine her being quiet around her troops but in one-on-one training being able to talk normally. Only certain people and places she will talk in.”

“And strangers in a safe space make it not safe anymore? And non-verbal communication is fine?”

“Yes!” Shouted Raphael, like a child on Christmas morning. “Exactly, understand now?”

Aziraphale nodded his head, lips turning upwards without his consent to match the energy provided by the other person. The original heavy air from stress and unknown dangers changed to a positive mood of simple bliss.

A devilish smile graced Raphael’s face, adding beauty to the marigold eyes. “Speaking of Michael, a little birdy said you want to heal.”

“Yes, Raphael,” Said Aziraphale, sinking into the cushion. “Down there was a better suit for me but I would like to know how.”

Raphael pushed himself off the desk. “Great, wonderful,” he brought his hands together in excitement, “It’s a date then. We could do it in the garden area so you can see more stars.”

“A… date? What’s that?”

“A date is a formal or inform social or romantic-“

“SERAPHIM RAPHAEL.” Shouted a Virtue, throwing aside the gray curtain, “Help,” She breathed. She latched on to Raphael’s arm, trying to pull him to the room. “We have two highly injured guards from the Archive.”

Stumbling along with her, Raphael took his arm back and grabbed her shoulder, stopping her in a scramble.

“How bad are the injuries?”

“Level ten chart, no response. Areas: head, shoulders, knees, chest, spreading. Treatment: none. Hall red in one. We can’t help them.”


End file.
